Digression
by TyPinG sLOwLy
Summary: The seat in front of me is still empty. . . Why does it feel as if someone should be there? Haruhi POV.
1. Prologue

_**Prologue**_

Aliens.

Time Travelers.

Espers.

I've been waiting patiently for them to spring up for a year now. Technically, I've been wishing for them to appear for four years. I would say I've been looking for them for most of my life but that is not true.

I used to be a rational person.

I might still be rational.

Starting my second year in North High without doing anything besides looking around for false evidence, I was nothing but gloomy. I felt like I should die, it was a dark and sick feeling. It was almost as if everyone had left me behind. I wanted to join them, maybe a small part of me wanted to.

The best thing I could do was stare out this window anyway . . .

The sky remained ominous on the third day of my second year. Rain was still pounding the windows like a drum and whispers filled my ears.

"_She just looks out that window?"_

"_Yeah, she's hoping for a lot, isn't she?"_

"_She's the weird loner, huh? Really, she deserves it."_

"_I know."_

These thoughts of mine mixed in with the whispers, clouding and distorting them.

"_Want to ask her out?"_

"_That weirdo? Dude, no way!"_

"_She's pretty hot though."_

"_Only someone stupid would ask someone like her out."_

"_I must be stupid then . . ."_

I try to ignore but the weight, the sound . . . it hurts. It never bothered me last year but . . .

"_Hey did you watch that episode yesterday?"_

"_Yeah, it was hilarious!"_

"_You should come over and watch with me sometimes!"_

Shut up, shut up, shut up!

"_You awake idiot?"_

"_Yeah, you didn't draw on my face did you?"_

"_Why would I do such a childish thing?"_

Guh . . . I'll just lay my head on this desk. Everything is just too heavy.

_Why can't I just fade away?_

. . .

. . .

The seat in front of me is still empty. . .

Why does it feel as if someone should be there?

* * *

**Hey everyone! Another story already 0.0 ! Yes I'm daring aren't I? This is what summer does to you (Just wait until school starts).**


	2. The Point of Conjunction

_**Two Years Ago**_

* * *

"Hey."

I turned sharply as I was met with a girl with a sneaky look about her, though I didn't question it. I glared at her for a few seconds, then resumed following random boy number ten down the street towards the normal café that every random boy takes me. Whoever she was, I had no business with her.

Before I could turn the corner, I was suddenly grabbed by the wrist. She looked about a year older then me and had light hair, pretty normal.

Until she said this –

"I want to talk to you about the John Smith you met two years ago."

. . . You wouldn't be able to say no, right?

So after ditching prince charming number ten, I followed the strange girl into the café I was heading to before. Inside, I was led to a table in the corner – a pretty secluded area. Was this some secret mission or something? I started brimming with excitement at the thought.

"So you brought the brat . . . I would congratulate you but I'm not doing this for myself so I wouldn't give a shit."

My smile started descending. Who was this jerk? This wasn't John Smith right? I'm sorry, but this wasn't how I imagined him.

"I'm sorry for my college's poor behavior. He just doesn't want to be . . . here."

"Damn right I don't want to be here. I can't believe they couldn't send someone else to do this. . ."

By then, I was in utter confusion. I still somehow managed to smile at these two abnormal people. I had found something finally. Even if one of them was a jerk and the other was too formal, this could be considered a breakthrough day for me.

If only it was so . . .

"So what is it about John Smith? Is he in trouble? Is he a part of some awesome organization? Did he strike oil and it turned out to be an out-of-this-world material? Or maybe he invented time travel or found a lost soul. Just tell me something amazing he did because I would've expected that by now. Or are you just going to tell me he's fine in collage? If that's all then this whole thing was poi–"

"John Smith is dead."

My words suddenly froze in place as I heard that bastard utter those four words. John. Smith. Dead? Not possible. Why would he be dead? I swallowed deeply and glared into the jerk's gray eyes.

"I don't believe you."

"Oh, really? Well, if I could predict the future, you would definitely believe me."

"But . . . that's not possible because . . . I gave him my faith this entire time. It always works. If I want a baseball team to win, they win. If I want to get a hundred on a test then I do it. I can do anything, which means John can do anything. I'm not alone stupid! John isn't dead, how would you know?"

I was starting to ramble, grabbing the table tightly causing my fingers to turn pale. You would probably mistake me as a ghost if you saw me since I was as white as a sheet. His next words froze me in time.

"Because I killed him."

. . .

He said it with no feeling almost like a doctor telling you were going to die in three days. My eyes were glazed and the room began closing into me. I didn't know if I was staring into the eyes of a murderer or of a lier. I wanted it to be the latter but his eyes were steel bars as my widened eyes glanced over them. The girl standing beside me shifted as I remained in my frozen state.

"Who. Are. You?" I said in a cold voice.

The jerk moved his hand to support his chin on the table and sneered at me, the kind of expression an evil villain in a manga would have.

"You can call me Fujiwara, brat."

The air in the café was still frozen and I still didn't know if I was talking to a murderer. If you think about it, no one would confess to a crime so easily. From what I learned, you had to gather clues and deduced who the murderer was and how he or she committed the crime. This was too easy, so he had to be lying. I looked over to the girl that had called me over.

Her expressions didn't give anything away, her mouth was a straight line. She didn't look shocked nor did she look smug. Was she forced to do this? Did this guy threaten death to this girl or was she the partner in crime?

. . . I can't believe in them now! How could I even consider it?

I was brought out of my reverie by the waitress asking us if we needed anything. I glared at the worker like an annoying fly and sat down at the corner of the table, looking away from "Fujiwara". What a fake name, it's less believable then John Smith.

Normally, I would be running away if someone said they killed someone I knew but that's only if they said they had killed my parents or something. I don't know how many "some's" are in that sentence. Anyway, John Smith was different because he was strange. These people were evil strange. Both the type of strange I like. Don't ask why I stayed, I'll just say it was for investigation.

The girl who led me here sat beside me and across from the killer. She mumbled something to waitress about coffee and sat, staring at the painting hanging on the wall. I picked my spot of window and avoided the other two's eyes until the waitress came back to break the silence.

If I even looked back at Fujiwara, I would probably freeze again. I still had something to ask but I'll wait until either of them start talking. Guess who it was?

"So do you believe me now?"

I heard him pick up his coffee and take a sip, almost sounding like a snake.

I decided to talk to the ceiling.

"Believe you? You bring me here just to tell me you killed someone? This is either a joke or a bluff. And why would you need to tell me anyway? I barely knew him so if he's dead then it wouldn't effect my life at all. Either way, it doesn't matter if I believe you."

"You sure do talk a lot for someone who doesn't believe in logic."

I closed my mouth at this. He did have a point but how would he know that? Well, it isn't important!

"Why are you telling me this? Was I chosen for something?"

Fujiwara began to laugh and it almost made me throw up.

"Chosen? Not likely. Probably just a random lucky draw. After all, there are six billion people in this world. Heh, you must be the luckiest lottery winner alive."

Now, he's just mocking me.

"And who's she? Why is she here?"

The girl looked up from her coffee to give me the same smile she did when she called out to me.

"I just had to go get you."

"Why couldn't he get me himself?"

"Well it's . . . complicated."

I huffed at this answer and glared at my coffee. I hate coffee.

I was wondering if this Fujiwara fellow was going to describe the event of killing John Smith but it seemed as if it wasn't worth his time. The waitress came over once again to see if we wanted our coffee's refilled but I'd rather suck dirt then drink coffee – twice in a row no doubt. This really isn't my day.

The entire time I didn't dare look over to Fujiwara's menacing smile. It was as if a devil had inhabited his body and once it had left for other prey, he still remained one. The ceiling and window really was my friend the entire time I sat there.

After thirty minutes of dead silence, I decided to start a conversation back up again. I needed answers but just talking to him was a headache. He was so cryptic.

"Why did you kill him – if I believe you of course."

I saw the booth's fabric move as Fujiwara shifted his position, probably into something more sinister.

"It was necessary. If he didn't die, then I wouldn't have a home to go home to."

There he goes with the cryptic words again.

"John wasn't letting you go home? Why didn't you just ask, stupid?"

"Because my home is in the future and if certain things do no occur, then I would cease to exist. Think of it this way, I was preserving the six billion lives with a single death. What would you do in that situation, brat?"

First of all, I would rather you died. Second of all, a time traveler? Yeah, you _really _are convincing me. If I said anything though, he would rant on about my "not accepting reality" as an excuse again. And thirdly, I wish he would stop calling me brat. I glanced at the girl once again.

"So you're from the future too?"

"Not exactly since I'm not a part of your future."

"A slider then?"

"Well . . . not by my own power. I still do not quite understand but I believe it to be like this."

The girl suddenly pulled out a sheet of paper and a pen from her bag.

"Let's say that this is time line alpha. I'll just draw it here."

She drew a line with an "α" mark and drew a dot at the end of it.

"This is the point from which we time traveled which is about two years into the future. Technically, all we did was travel backwards on this line."

She traced the line back and started writing a dot with "two years prior" beside it.

"Lets say that we change a 'predetermined event' as Fujiwara calls them. Normally, that wouldn't be possible since they are 'predetermined' and can not possible be changed. In other words, we would only become a factor in that predetermined event if we time traveled to that point. Almost like drawing an extra picture in a flip book."

She lifted the pen off the paper and began grabbing the ends of it.

"However, let's say that we changed events that were not predetermined but the events that ended up being factors in the predetermined events, almost like destroying the cause instead of the effect. Anyone could meddle with a cause, almost like messing with the batter of a cake before popping it in the oven creating an entirly new flavor. Sorry, but I need to create metaphors or else you would be lost."

I'm not stupid you know.

"Anyway, this is what we are doing –"

She took the paper that she had grabbed and ripped it in half.

"– we are medaling with the cause –"

She took a pen and wrote in "beta" on the half that had "two years prior" on it.

"– and creating an entirely new effect."

. . . I know she probably enjoyed the whole theatrics of that speech . . . but she isn't a time traveler. Anyone could think that up and spiel about it as if time travel was real, just look at the sci-fi books of today.

I know I wanted this stuff to be real but . . . that was because I didn't think it was real. I just thought John Smith was someone with the same mind set as me, not someone who was _part_ of the mind set.

"But doesn't that destroy your world? How are you going to get back now?"

I didn't sound worried about them to be honest, I was just catching a mistake in that elongated theory. Fujiwara, who had been silent the entire time, replied.

"TPDD, Time Plane Destruction Device."

I decided to peer towards him – just this once. His face was a bit more relaxed then when he had confessed so I relaxed as well. He sighed.

"I really hate explaining something I already know to some thirteen year old."

I was fourteen but whatever.

"Anyway, think of time and space as a layer. One layer is time. Multiple layers is space. TPDD destroys a part of that layer and moves you to either a layer very, very similar or to a layer completely different. You seem to be separating the two as time traveling and sliding but in reality, the TPDD does both."

Well now, that's amazing. Now he's saying he's a slider as well. Maybe they're both just crazy and they happened to see John Smith help me that night? Not possible since I snuck into the security room to remove the evidence that some other person helped me and no one was on them besides me and John. So they couldn't have been there.

Are they really time travelers? And is Fujiwara really a murderer? This is just crazy. I would've liked it if we had time traveled to the renaissance or something but evil plotting for some unknown reason? I don't even know what this "predetermined event" they're talking about is. Why don't you tell me that first?

Fujiwara sneered at me again. I'm starting to hate that.

"Why, that predetermined event doesn't exist anymore."

He got up with hands in pockets as he headed towards the automatic doors. The girl placed money down onto the table.

"This is just an apology. Though, I do think you deserve it."

. . . Deserve what?

* * *

**Phew, did it. I never really had any characters ramble about time theories and stuff before so if I made a stupid contridiction, please tell me. Now we know why Kyon wasn't sitting in front of Haruhi. Wonder what's going to happen? (Yeah, I'm trying to sound dramatic, but I don't think it's working) Keep your eyes open for the next chapter!**


	3. The Point of Notifying

_**Present Day**_

"Now that everyone is settled down, I would like to introduce the student teacher that would be taking over your math class until summer break."

I heard silent cheering from the front.

"Of course, I will be supervising the entire time."

The class suddenly got quiet. Figures . . .

"Okay, you may come in Asahina-san."

I decided to look towards the front of the classroom. I don't know why but the name Asahina seemed familiar. Actually, if it was someone I knew, I wouldn't be surprised. Ever since I came to this school, I've felt as if I should be doing something else. Like last summer, for example. For some reason, I didn't do my homework until the last two weeks of break when I usually did it as soon as I got it. Though, maybe it was because I had no reason to start earlier . . .

Anyway, as soon as I looked up from my lethargic state, I heard gasps from most of the males in class. It oh-so happened that this Asahina-sensei was a swimsuit model. No, not really – she just looked like one with big boobs. She was wearing this office outfit that seemed to highlight her better area. What, is she trying to make most of the girls in class jealous? And is that type of outfit allowed in this school? Not that I would care . . .

"It's nice to meet all of you and I hope I wouldn't be a burden in your studying. If you need help with linear functions or algorithms I would be glad to help."

"Wow, I never knew mathematic nerds could be so hot," muttered the pervert sitting beside me. Wow, I never knew who he was before. No wonder . . .

"Anyway, now that we are all clear . . . would you please turn in your assignments that were due today."

A grumble resounded through the class.

For some reason . . . everything was brighter in 2-5. The rain still pounded on the window but it didn't seem as harsh and cold. I looked over to the student teacher with curiosity. I never had this much energy before, well at least before that Fujiwara freak told me he killed John Smith. Sooner or later, the bell had rung announcing lunch break and I realized that I had been staring at her from my desk for ten minutes. What I didn't realize was the notes she had written on the board.

Infinity.

This entire school is the definition of never ending torture, she must have realized it already. Maybe I'll understand this Asahina . . .

Forget I ever said that. I would _never _understand this student teacher. After the lunch break where I barely ate anything, I shoved myself back inside my feet barely lifting off the floor as usual. I would then collapse on my desk, feeling pathetic (and hungry) then drift off to sleep once again.

Not this time.

"Um . . . I'm sorry. Miss?"

I lifted my eyes at the sound of a familiar moe voice, almost like an angel guiding me to heaven. Except, this angel was simply kicking me into hell.

I glared at the student teacher like a rattle snake in the desert sun. Was it me, or was the brightness I felt for a brief second suddenly fading away? Whatever . . .

And this wasn't math class right? What was she doing here?

Of course I didn't think of this right then and there since I was too focused on glaring at this rat.

"I saw you laying on your desk and I just wanted to warn you not to do that in this class. You don't want to get in trouble, correct?"

She spoke so confidently, it was scary.

Not really.

The people that surrounded me were looking at Asahina-sensei as if she was a famous miracle worker failing at creating a miracle. How stupid.

I remained silent and continued to silently glared at the student teacher.

"S-So please just . . ."

Before I could think of a retort, the student teacher bowed deeply.

"Oh . . . why yes, class is about to start. My bad."

She then left. The guy sitting near me started blushing stupidly. So stupid . . .

My head returned to the cold hard desk. I only had one question in my mind, where had I seen her before?

* * *

The day passed slower then normal and I didn't heed Asahina-sensei's warning (since it didn't even sound threatening to begin with) of not sleeping in class. I was walking home as slow as a turtle, puddles of water had disgusting cherry blossoms washed away leaving the once beautiful scene a complete mess. The irony is too pleasant.

I sighed as I shifted my bag tighter across my shoulder.

As I got closer to my house I ran into my neighbor from across the street. There wasn't much to say about him other that he was a grade schooler who I taught now and again. It was mostly homework but sometimes he needed help with a report though he told me he wanted to do reports by himself. I guess you could say we were studying buddies.

. . . Isn't it sad? The only person I can talk too is a ten year old . . .

"Onee-chan!"

He ran over carrying some papers. Yep, he probably needed serious help. Normally he would wait until I got home and dropped off my stuff. He was pretty polite for a grade student.

"What is it?" I asked, though I wasn't in the mood for fractions.

"Are these yours?"

I noticed as he tightly held the papers in his hands that his face was a bit stunned and confused. What, did someone bully him to take these or something? I took the papers and glanced at them.

"Where did you find these?" I asked.

"On my porch. It had your name in it so I thought it was yours. I didn't know you were in the literary club Onee-chan."

I'm not in that club, why would I ever join that boring thing? As I looked through the papers I saw this weird short story about snow and a coffin. I couldn't even make out a plot. This Nagato must hate the literary club to write such a horrible piece. And then the mystery story felt so two-dimensional that I felt like snoring half way through it. Kozumi sure knows how to create a mood! (Not really.)

I then saw a title which read "A Romantic Endeavor," by Kyon.

. . . It's horrible. This story isn't a romance at all! It's more like strolling around town with your little sister's friend, what a pedophile. And how come this guys real name isn't written down like everyone else's? Who uses an alias when it's a school paper?

I flipped through it until I found one of the pages book marked. The story looked like something out of a children's bedtime story book except for the fact that it was full of violence and political strategies not found in Cinderella or Snow White.

My eyes widened as I happened upon the author of this article.

"So . . . is it yours? My mom's calling me bac–"

"Did you see anyone suspicious when you picked this up?"

"No, the entire street was empty."

I nodded my head. I ripped a part of the article and handed it to him.

"You can keep this one okay."

"But didn't you write this one?"

I didn't answer as I ran into my house, throwing my bag aside and putting my hair up into a quick pony tail. I still held onto the articles tightly along with the book mark (or more like stationary you would find in the calligraphy club) and slammed my door shut, ignoring my mom's queries.

I looked at the note left for me in full depth.

Sender – Asahina-sensei.

_Suzumiya Haruhi,_

_Today should be the exact time and date in which I am to make a show in your room. You may not know me but I know a lot about you. In which case, you are to follow the instructions left for you along with this note. I wouldn't normally do such things but with how things have been going so far . . . it is necessary. I would explain but it would take a novels worth of paper to tell you. All that I can say is that the papers that you have just taken up are of deep importance._

_My first instructions to you are to rip out the paper that you had written and to give it to the young boy. _

_Note: Your questions of how you had written this article without your knowing will go unanswered for there is no more time._

_Second, you are to find a map in your locker the next day which should pin-point you to the spot where you are to proceed with the next instructions. _

_Finally, I do not know about this letter. The me at school will not help you and it is best that it stayed that way._

_I only wish that things could return to normal._

_Asahina Mikuru_

Things are going to start up now, right?

. . . About God damn time!

* * *

**I know, short chapter but I liked where it ended. The next one will come sooner (but I'm not promising anything).**


	4. The Point of Forbearance

"You may not understand but please, don't touch that rock."

"Which one, the gourd looking one or the other random scattered rocks."

"Particularly the gourd one."

"Why are _you _so interested in it. After all, it's all your fault I'm doing whatever you think I'm doing. You have no right to stop me, not after you lied to me."

". . . Who said I was lying?"

I took out a note from my pocket and flung it towards him, spitting at it as it landed

"She did."

* * *

I was a complete mess as I awoke to the sound of my alarm. Unfortunately, I was acute to high noises so ignoring it wasn't an option. I shut off the alarm with a slam, undoing my long hair from the pony tail it was in from yesterday.

There's going to be a note in my shoe locker today, right?

Unless this was some practical joke. After all, someone else could've written that article. It wasn't like it was in my handwriting or anything.

But for some reason, it reminded me of two years ago when I met Fujiwara and that girl (still didn't catch her name). I didn't want to get caught up in whatever mess they were making but my pride wouldn't allow it. Still, as I trudged up that hill I wondered if things would get better or worse.

I've been a pretty optimistic person for most of my life so you could guess what I decided.

I never noticed this before but people stayed at least three meters away from me whispering about something. Kind of disturbing.

Wait, don't tell me . . . they were talking about me right? The lonely antisocial girl? At least I didn't talk in a monotone or else people would try to lock me up in a crazy house.

. . . Why was I caring about what other people thought? Let's get back to the big picture here.

I hesitated as I drew close to my shoe locker. I could just ignore that piece of paper when I opened it but if I did what would happen? I was speculating about who this Asahina Mikuru was and on the top of that list was a time traveler/slider like that bastard Fujwara. It only made sense.

So if I avoided taking that note, would I mess up the time continuum?

If I remember what that girl told me two years ago it was along the lines of "_destroying the cause before things could take effect."_

. . . But as you know, I'd never pass up the opportunity for adventure. Ever.

I opened my locker and shoved whatever piece of paper into my bag, startling a few people beside me. The whole hall went silent as I dashed towards the women's restroom with a determined look on my face.

As I got there I saw a couple of girls but as soon as they saw me hightailed out of there. I ran into a stall, slammed it behind me, and locked it. If I could lock the entire restroom I would do so but after I scared the hell out of those things . . .

The reason for my out burst: I didn't want other people in the know. They weren't waiting for anything to happen and it wouldn't be fair at all for them to find out that I was on a top secret mission. Though I should get serious now. It's life or death.

"_Make sure you sit on this bench okay _:)"

. . . Are you serious? She was just writing about how it's "time is running out" and "it's necessary" and she writes a ":)" of all things? This Asahina-sensei has the same personality as her figure – curvy.

Anyway, besides that small detail, the map along with the note told me to go to some park near my middle school. There was a red highlight near the top of the map reading "bench at 7:00".

. . . Was a map necessary because I know where the park is. She could've just written "Go to the bench farthest North at seven and wait there." She didn't need a map at all. Is she stupid or what? Whatever, I was just wondering what would be waiting at this particular bench. Another clue?

. . . Asahina-sensei, I'm _really _not in the mood to play scavenger hunt. But I guess that's the fun of it all.

After running out of the bathroom I happened upon that same Asahina-sensei that was stupid enough to write a smile in her world ending notes.

She didn't look happy.

Actually, wait more like pissed.

I thought she was mad at me but I realized she wasn't even looking at me. She held her cell phone tightly as she glared at it with vigor.

"I can't believe they seriously want me to do tha–"

She stopped when she realized I was standing there, looking straight at her. She pocketed her cell and smiled at me pleasantly, forgetting her previous anger.

"Oh, why hello Suzumiya-san! Didn't see you there at all."

I would normally glare at her but since I knew she was the one giving me notes (or at least I think so) I was hard pressed to ask her questions. Like if she was from the future. Or if she had met Fujiwara. Or what I was suppose to do. Or if John Smith was dead. Ultimately, I gave her a look of extreme impatience like a child holding back from the guilt of eating all the cookies in a jar.

Asahina-sensei looked at me curiously before looking at her watch.

"Ah, look at the time. I should be getting to class. You should be doing so as well, Suzumiya-san."

She started walking away.

"Wait!"

She stopped and looked over her shoulder.

"Yes?"

My mouth moved up and down in exercises, my mind going through the things I could ask her. I was never this speechless or frozen, maybe two years ago but I always knew what to say. I decided to sigh and shake my head.

"Thanks for uh . . . th-the warning! Yeah, that . . . thanks a lot . . ."

How cowardly. How come I couldn't think of anything better? Has my self-esteem really been this low before? How stupid and pathetic! What is wrong with me?

I was expecting Asahina-sensei to laugh at my face but it was quite the opposite. She frowned deeply as she turned around.

"You have nothing to thank me for."

I stood there stunned.

"You should get to class."

And she walked away.

You know when I said I could maybe understand this Asahina? Yeah, this was the reason why I could _never _understand her. Well, when this is over, I'll thank you a million times over. After all, you're the on who allowed me to go on an adventure. It's only natural to thank someone for a great experience, correct?

. . . How wrong I was.

* * *

I don't need to tell you how class went since it was basically the same thing as yesterday. The only thing extra was that I was constantly looking at the clock, slowing time down even further. I wonder what time is like when you are a time traveler? I'm sure a clock is pointless since you wouldn't need to measure it in order to bake a cake and stand there for thirty minutes. All you would need to do is time travel forwards and there you go, cake for everyone.

. . . If only time travel _was _a piece of cake (terrible pun, I know).

Anyway, when that bell rung I shot out of there like a bullet on steroids, jumping down those stairs like a grenade, rolling down the hill like a bomb, skidding to my front door like a rocket that suddenly jumped into hyperspace, and then finally jumping onto my bed out of gas.

I then realized that I had to wait for three hours. _Three whole hours_. Homework wasn't an option. Reading a book wasn't an option. Watching T.V. would never be an option in the first place (unless I was _really _bored). So what could I do?

If only I had taken my time down that hill, I would've wasted thirty whole minutes. Why does it have to be seven? Not five? Five thirty? And better yet, four-thirty? Why do I have to wallow away for three whole hours in my room doing nothing? I want to battle aliens! Time travel! Maybe even read someone's mind! Something!

Instead I had to wait patiently for it to come to me. How horrible cruel!

Fortunately, the three hours went by quicker then my time at school and I called back to my mom that I would be going to the convenience store down the street. I couldn't say I would be meeting with friends since I had none . . .

I had left my house at six thirty giving me a whole half whole to reach that park bench.

I was underestimating myself since I got there with fifteen minutes to spare.

Nothing was on the bench. I decided to look underneath it but nothing. Maybe it had to be seven on the dot? Did I come too early? Asahina-sensei didn't say I couldn't come early so it should be alright.

Or maybe I'm going to meet her? The one who wrote these notes. She probably wanted to meet me face to face. I certainly had tons of questions to ask that I have been holding back. I also find it unfair that she gets to communicate to me through notes when I have no way to respond. It makes me feel so powerless . . .

After sitting on that bench for at least ten minutes, the evening sky finally closed in on me. I decided to lay down, flipping my hair over my shoulders to get it out of the way. I wish I could tell time by the stars, then I would know if it was seven yet.

Was it just me, or was I getting a bit tired? No, I can't fall asleep! I needed to get answers, dammit! I struggled to stay awake but the over empowering sense of rest took over my eyesight.

Are you telling me that I got excited over nothing! I waited impatiently for this!

Damn irony.

* * *

"Oi!"

_Poke_

"Oi, you alive?"

_Poke, poke._

Go away. This annoying thing poking my cheek is only mocking my pain. It was probably ten now. I missed all the action. Why does this always happen to me?

"Is this thing yours? Are you into machines or something?"

I suddenly opened my eyes and made for whatever this machine he was referring too. His hand was in the way so I immediately grabbed and twisted it. He shouted in surprise and pain and I snatched this chip looking thing off the ground along with the note that was with it.

"What the hell was that for?"

I didn't bother looking at him as I looked at the note in my hand.

_Mail this to XXX without the return address_.

. . . That was it? I waited here for this stupid chip thing? I'm not some messenger boy! I fumed as the guy beside me started blabbing again.

"Why were you sleeping on this bench? Did you run away or something?"

". . ."

"Oh, I see then. Well, if you want to play silent then I guess I'll leav–"

"Did you see anyone?"

I continued to stare at the paper, ignoring whatever random junk he had just said.

"Wha–?"

"I said did you see anyone besides myself, near this thing?"

He remained silent as I narrowed my eyes.

"No . . . ?"

I sighed and got up off the bench, flicking my hair away from my face. I then took the time to look at the face of the person who had woken me up.

He looked pretty normal; I knew for a fact that he wasn't the person who had left the note and chip. He was in the normal attire of jeans and t-shirt and was carrying a bag of some sort. I started wondering if I was suppose to meet this guy and maybe I was suppose to find something out from him.

"Hey . . . can you stop staring at me . . . it's kind of . . . awkward . . ."

"Who are you?"

He paused to think.

"Why, I am Old Saint Nick. Who are you?"

Is he serious? I glared at him. He laughed slightly at his own joke.

"No really, I'm not giving my name to some strange homeless girl. You might do fraudulent acts like extortion or blackmail in order to gain cash."

That's your excuse? How pathetic . . .

I continued to glare at this enemy with full force. I don't know why but I had a _deep _hatred for this guy. You understand, right? I grumbled as I stuck the chip in one of my pockets along with the brief note. Old Saint Nick (I'll call him this since he asked for it) looked at me with curiosity.

"What's that thing?"

I froze.

"No idea."

"Seems like it was important enough for you to attack me."

"And why do you care if it looked important? I don't know what it does but I know it's important."

"I see . . ."

He really doesn't get it.

"Look, think of it this way. I was waiting for someone to come pick me up but after waiting for a few hours I was starting to get a bit tired and took a nap. You see, my friend is into computers so I thought for a brief second that my friend had come but left a vital part of her project behind and that you were some homeless person stealing it. So, I did the best thing I could do and defended it."

I looked at him encouragingly. He didn't look persuaded.

"So if your friend was going to pick you up, wouldn't she eventually come back?"

Damn, this guy isn't a moron.

"Well . . ."

"Hmph, you're a terrible lier."

Caught red-handed.

"So . . . unless you aren't going to beg me for money, I'll be on my way then."

"Wait!"

He stopped walking and turned around.

"What?"

"What's in that bag?"

He looked at it briefly before glancing at me.

"Stuff for cram school."

Oh . . . well okay then. I was hoping that it was something of importance but I guess I was wrong. All I got out of this adventure was some weird chip that I probably couldn't use. That's okay though . . . (I'm a terrible lier, remember). I realized that this guy had been looking at me for a while. The hairs of my neck stood on end.

"Do I . . . know you from somewhere?"

I looked at him closely, focusing my energy into his eyes. I strong force of nostalgia hit me, my vision doubling over.

"I don't think so . . . ? No, definitely not likely," I replied, cupping my chin in confusion. He sighed as he shifted his bag over his shoulder.

"Okay . . . well then. Bye homeless girl."

Wait, I'm not homeless . . .

But before I could reply, he had disappeared.

. . .

Something in my gut told me that I would be seeing him again.

* * *

_". . . Who said I was lying?"_

* * *

**Told you it would come faster :). Also, other stories that I am writing will be put put on hiatus (since I'm single-minded and can't work on two-three stories at a time. I also like this story better :D ) Thanks for the reviews so far and for those who are too shy to speak their mind . . . well get over it (no, I'm just kidding :p ).**

**Next chapter will be probably slower to come.**


	5. The Point of Reverence

Golden Week.

No school.

No notes.

Just nothing.

After sending that chip to it's designated point, I just sat around the house moping like I always did. I thought something would happen to me when I mailed it like some weather balloon falling from the sky to give me a clue but . . . Asahina-sensei wasn't giving me _anything_.

I was wondering if all of this was just some huge joke on the antisocial girl to make her finally realize that what she was doing was pointless.

It was pointless, wasn't it? For all I knew, it was all a fantasy written inside my mind. If I asked my mom if I had left for the convenience store the other day I'm sure she would say that she didn't remember that ever happening. I didn't ask her though; I still wanted to stay sane.

There was just one thing bothering me.

"_Do I . . . know you from somewhere?"_

"Onee-chan! You awake?"

"Wah–?"

I looked up to see my little neighbor's face peering towards me with concern. I sighed as I picked up my pencil and began marking down a practice problem.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just couldn't sleep last night."

I made a couple of other scribbles on the sheet. "Here, solve this. I'm going to go get some air."

He looked down at the paper in confusion.

"But . . . isn't this a bit too easy? We did this three months ag–"

"Yeah well . . . you need to review, so do it."

"Hrmph . . . Onee-chan, ever since you saw that paper you've been different."

I froze as I began to step out the door.

"How different?"

"Well, you seem a bit . . . I don't know . . . how should I put this? Confused? Stressed? Lost? I just want you to feel better . . ."

I remained silent as I stood situated by the door handle. He then took out the papers I had hastily given him that day.

"I don't really understand this, Onee-chan. Since you wrote it, could you enlighten me?"

Wait, wasn't I here to teach you quadratic equations? I don't even remember looking over that paper I had somehow written – I was too astonished. I sat back down beside him and flipped over the papers he had set onto the table.

It was pretty hard stuff, it talked about the cycles of time and how each person was made of data. It went on explaining that since we are data we could have the data of a microchip inserted into our brains giving us unlimited information. This would also give us the power to control the data surrounding us.

But it came with a cost.

The paper (or my paper) went on, warning the audience of the dangers of knowing too much or too little. To have the knowledge of the universe. . . what would that do too a person? If you knew everything, what would happen?

You would loss interest in this world.

It (or I) went on to say –

"_If we ultimately learn how to travel through time_, _then someone has to pick this up. I want to warn the future generations of this planet that boredom could drive anyone over the edge. The reason I know this is because . . . someone told me so. This world has things that we can never explain, so this person told me. I don't want people to get bored of that uniqueness! So, people of the future! Limit yourself of information when you travel through time. Erase your own memories or something, I'm sure it could be possible if you could time travel. I just wish . . . that all that I have done would not go to waste. I will never give up on finding him. Never."_

I gripped tightly to the paper and shivered. So close. _So. Close._ My mind was _exactly _like that. No one could mimic my thinking patterns, unless this person could read minds. However, I had been thinking about this over the past week. How could someone mimic thoughts I hadn't even yet begun to think?

"So, can you help out?"

I shook my head.

"No, can't."

He frowned at this and I slide the papers over too him.

"But . . . why not?"

"You should try figuring it out yourself, you can't always expect me to help you."

"Yeah but . . . I don't really think time travel isn't going to need a machine in your brain. I thought that was weird."

I paused and looked at him suspiciously.

"Oh yeah? Well, what do you think?"

He smiled as he pushed up his glasses.

"I'll be right back!"

He then ran into his room to get something. As I waited I peered to look at the problem I had written.

Yeah, this is _way _too easy . . .

* * *

"I'm back!"

"That took you awhile, I can't stay here forever you know."

"It just took me a second to find everything."

He dropped a sketch book with a picture of a turtle on it along with a couple of pencils and a container with –

"Wait . . . is that a turtle?"

"I actually think it's a tortoise but I'm not exactly sure . . ."

"Where did you get that?"

He sat down at the low table, highlighting the turtle with a pencil.

"On my way to cram school, some guy was at the river doing some weird stuff. I decided to go check out what he was doing. He had this turtle in his hand and looked like he was going to throw it. I yelled out to him what he was doing and he replied with 'releasing a turtle.' When I asked why he said 'no reason' and threw it into the river. I do agree with some of the stuff in your essay thing but something isn't right with it."

I remained silent as he flipped to the next page of his sketch book. I noticed that there was another drawing of a turtle however it was in a slightly different position. He began flipping the pages and the turtle went from high into the air, to the river below it. I always knew he was a good drawer but I never saw him do animations before. It looked so smooth that I would have thought it was some rough draft to a cartoon. It ended with the turtle being picked up by a hand.

I was astounded.

"You did . . . all of that? Based on what you saw?"

"Yeah . . . it was weird how it came over me. I never really did stuff like this before but it came so naturally."

He pointed to the turtle/tortoise. "After he dropped it into the river he picked it up again and handed it to me, telling me to keep it. I asked why since he just released it. He told me that it probably wouldn't survive in the wild anyway. When he walked away though . . . he was looking at something."

"Looking at what? Tell me!"

My neighbor jumped up as my voice rose, shaking the table and the turtle.

"I think it was a piece of paper or something . . . ? I don't know, I didn't get a good look."

So, that means that someone else was getting notes besides myself and was doing weird things in front of my neighbor. Did I do too poor of a job? Did Asahina-sensei like this person better then me? How dare she! What did I do wrong? I could've done that! Okay, I'm sorry that I complained about being a messenger boy but I actually enjoyed looking forward to something! Don't replace me just because of that!

I think he noticed my expression and backed off. Did I look that scary looking? Before I could lose him, I asked one final question.

"Well, what does this person look like? You could describe him, right?"

He blinked once after I had calmed down and flipped through his sketch book again.

"I think time is made of planes like my sketch book. This guy inspired me to think like that and your paper pin-pointed that inspiration to time travel. I knew you were going to ask who gave me this turtle so I drew a realistic sketch of him based off my memory, though it might not be correct . . ."

He sighed quickly as he saw the picture of my replacement.

"This is him."

You probably knew who he was talking about, except I had no clue what was going on right then and there. What was puzzling about it all was that I was more angered then confused.

Because Santa Clause had delivered a Christmas present seven months early.

* * *

**I guess I lied, here's another chapter (I sure am generous). Merry Christmas.**


	6. The Point of Happenstance

You could say that for the rest of Golden Week, I was on a man hunt. For that guy, of course.

He was going on cool adventures without me! He was taking orders from the future without me! This must be what it feels to be replaced by someone better then you after you got fired and then go sabotage that person's career. This was a similar case, only more extreme.

I had to find out what that note said.

Which was why I was so exhausted by the end of the week, that I collapsed into my bed on the last day and went straight to sleep.

Besides looking for Santa Clause (no, not the real one), I had to help my neighbor with his homework and on top of that, I had to work on my own.

Why doesn't the educational system realize how important time travel and aliens are. We need to prepare for that!

I groaned into my pillow and I soon drifted into sleep.

. . . Wait, what day of the week is it?

* * *

When I was young I always wanted to know the stupidest of things. I wanted to know why the sky was blue, the trees green, the sun yellow. Though, as I grew up these questions I asked were answered with a simple "the sky is blue because the molecules reflect that color" or "trees are green because of photosynthesis" and then, "the sun is yellow because it's a star going through mid-life". You might thing that all of those are reasonable answers.

I didn't want them to be.

I wanted there to be a better reason. We can't see the stupid molecules in the sky so how could I take that at face value?

But then I'm simply questioning life, am I right? Why are humans the only talking, walking primate on this earth? "Because of evolution." "Because it just is." "Because God made us that way."

. . . You then start thinking about how special you truly are. If it takes thousands of Earth's to fit into the sun and trillions of suns to fill an entire galaxy, then our lives are as small as a molecule. How would anything take earth to face value? And those billions of people living on the surface. How would any of them matter in the end. If we all die, the universe is still going to continue, right?

What is the reason for living?

I still hadn't figured that out but when I do, I will not take "because we are" as an answer.

* * *

Climbing up that hill never gave me problems before but for some reason I was huffing and puffing up it like a smokestack. Since I forgot the day of the week I didn't even bother with my hair. I hadn't really done anything to my hair (except putting it in a pony tail on occasion) since last year. I just couldn't bother doing the hair ritual everyday, it just got so boring.

I thought for a moment that maybe they would put another note in my locker.

Nope, no notes in locker.

. . . Maybe my desk.

Nope, no notes in desk.

I sighed loudly, startling a few people beside me, including pervo. I sat angrily in my seat, feeling even less important then before.

"_Chosen? Not likely. Probably just a random lucky draw. After all, there are six billion people in this world. Heh, you must be the luckiest lottery winner alive."_

Why was _that _the one thing I remembered clearly from that retarded discussion?

Though, it's true. I must have won the lottery but the ticket flew into the hands of someone more fortunate. Of course I wasn't _chosen_, I would be _way _too lucky if that was the case. They probably needed me because it was "predestined" or whatever. At this point, I don't really care . . .

"I'm _certain _that all of you did your homework over break. If not then heads might roll!" said the overly active Asahina-sensei. I heard only a few shuffles and saw a few guilty stares. The teacher in the back narrowed his eyes at this.

After a few lectures to the ones who decided not to do their assignments, the class settled down into a somewhat peaceful state. Asahina-sensei drew in breath.

"As your Math II student teacher, I would like for everyone to learn from others mistakes. Even if you did your homework, everyone needs to understand the cons of procrastination. You never know what could happen if you don't do something you are supposed to do. It's very important."

Well, since you are a time traveler, if you didn't do anything your future probably wouldn't exist.

Unless you are playing some stupid prank on me. If that's so, then stop making it look like you're practicing what you preach.

The rest of the day was simple, mostly welcoming us back from break. The bell rang and I slowly began packing my bag, deciding that I wouldn't need to study for Math II and that I wouldn't do my homework in that class as revenge. Take that, Asahina-sensei!

I'm not sure if she would care though . . .

"Um, Suzumiya-san?"

Oh, speak of the devil! How does she appear right when I'm thinking about her? Don't tell me she reads minds . . .

I turned around to see the student teacher again. She didn't have the kind expression she usually wore but instead had a serious look about her. Something must be wrong.

"What?" I asked, a bit more forceful then I intended.

She handed something over to me. Great, more papers . . .

"I need you to head over to the cram school at six-thirty and deliver these for me. The name of the school is on the sheets along with directions. It's only a station away."

Huh? When did this Asahina-sensei become so talkative? I thought she said she wouldn't help me? Well, I shouldn't get my hopes up. Saint Nick probably didn't go to this cram school and he probably didn't go on this day. Though, these papers did come from Asahina so it shouldn't be called "coincidence" yet.

I didn't bother asking why since I knew she wouldn't answer my questions. No one answers my questions now a days. It's one of the rules in the game, "Don't-Let-Haruhi-Know-What-The-Hell-Is-Going-On."

I decided to go where the dice told me too and went into the station after getting out of my uniform at home. I went towards the cram school specified on the sheets. I never really went to a cram school since my parents didn't want to waste money on that type of stuff, they thought I could excel better on my own. My neighbor (he doesn't go to this cram school) said that it was okay but he didn't really like how he had no real time to draw.

I think that he went on the weekends too. That must suck . . .

I walked up to the building of the supposed cram school and walked up to the front desk, presenting the papers with random names to the secretary stationed there. She told me that I was to present said papers to 4-B and then told me to say "hi" to Asahina-sensei. Did she work here before going to North High as a student teacher?

She sure does a lot of volunteer work . . . I wonder where her income comes from?

It turns out that 4-B was four stories up. The elevator was only used for personnel only.

Screw the rules, I don't want to waste my precious energy on the stairs. So, I jumped into the elevator and pressed "4" keeping my eyes on the blinking light atop it. Before reaching level four though, the elevator suddenly stopped on level three. I jumped at the sudden stop and began to panic. Damn, I thought I could get away with this!

The elevator door opened and I began accepting my doomed fate. Good job at screwing the rules . . .

". . ."

". . ."

I must either have great luck or the stars above heard my prayers because standing before me was Santa Clause. We both glared at each other.

"What are you doing here?" I asked.

I heard the ding of the elevator but I slammed my hand on it to keep it open. Santa smirked a bit.

"Oh really? And what are _you _doing here? Unless you happen to be the first transfer student I've ever happened upon."

"Oh, so you never had a transfer student before? Well, there's a first. And for your information, I'm going to 4-B to drop off these papers. Instead, I should be asking what you are doing here. Didn't your cram classes just start?"

I'm sure he didn't know I knew that however, it's a known fact that my neighbor always went to cram around six o'clock. Don't tell me this guy was skipping. Though, he does look the type . . .

I slammed the elevator to seem a bit more commanding.

"Well, I just wanted to ask why the homeless girl is in my school. And in the prohibited elevator, no doubt. You must have gotten in through the back entrance. Sorry, but I told you I have nothing for you."

"That isn't it, damn it!"

I slammed the elevator again. Why won't this thing shut up? Santa sighed deeply and began walking into the elevator.

"Look, can you calm down? I'm not really suppose to be here and you really aren't suppose to be here. It would be better for both of us if we quietly settled this and not throw some petty tantrum. Really, annoying people like you don't get anywhere."

You're the one who's annoying, stupid.

I scooted farther away from him into the corner as he pressed "1". Since my floor was next, I had to hurry.

"Look, I know you received notes from 'Asahina Mikuru'. I want you to tell me what you're doing."

The small smirk that was on his face was replaced by a serious one, looking at me with great surprise. I smiled as I had finally got him to shut up.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Quite the crap! I know you got those notes. If you tell me what they said, I'll leave you alone forever."

He glared at me and stuffed his hands into his pockets. As the elevator stopped I continued to wait for his answer.

"It's your floor–"

"So? I have all the time in the world. I don't really care about these stupid papers, all I want is answers."

He sighed again and pressed a button to close the elevator. Probably worried about the teachers.

"Look, I don't know anything about 'Asahina Mikuru' but I do remember her being a tutor here for some time. That's all. I only got two notes."

"And what did they say?"

He shook his head.

"How would you know about this anyway? I got my notes from my room. I thought it would be fun to see if whatever it said on them were true. I don't trust a stalker like you."

I growled as he lied against the wall of the elevator. Oh, so I'm a stalker now? I then thought of something.

"My neighbor . . . he got a turtle from you. A small turtle. Or tortoise. Or whatever, I don't care. He drew an animation of it and everything. He drew a picture of you and said that you were carrying some sort of note. You see, that night I met you someone told me by note to go there. I had to take that chip thing and send it off to someone. Before that I got these strange articles. I could tell you the names of the people who wrote them for more proof if you want!"

He rose his eyebrows in curiosity. I think I've got him.

"Myself, Kozumi, Nagato, Asahina Mikuru, and some guy named 'Kyon'. Kinda strange how he was the only one with an alias and a pretty stupid alias too."

Santa's eyes widened as he took his hands out of his pockets. Does he recognize anyone there? Does he finally believe me? Suddenly, he took me by the shoulders and looked straight into my eyes. Get your fuzzy go-lumps off me!

I heard a ding as the elevator opened up.

"Kyon . . . Kyon that's . . . that's my . . . nickname. My stupid nickname."

". . ."

. . . So he's the pedophile? The one that wrote that horrible romance story?

I heard the ding again as the elevator began opening again.

I slammed the door once again.

Damn elevator . . . this is all your fault.

* * *

**Thanks for reading! Oh, and I wanted to thank anonymous iron for telling me my stupid mistake xD. I fixed it of course. I'm glad that last chapter made everyone distrust their e-mail ;D. Please review for more extremely long elevator discussions :p! Also, go-lumps are not real things (though it's pretty obvious).**


	7. The Point of VII

Have you ever had some random stranger wave at you in the hallways yet you had no idea who they were? Then, they start talking about something you had never heard of before and

you try to go along with it in order not to be rude, nodding your head.

This person then walks away saying "bye, see you tomorrow!" and you can't help but feel envious of this close friendship. You wanted to say, "You must be mistaking me for someone else," but then you realize how important you really are.

If you were at least a little bit unique, she wouldn't have mistaken you for her friend. She would've walked on by and talked to her real friend. And best of all, you would never be reminded on how little you truly are.

I wanted to be unique. I never wanted to be mistaken as someone else, ever again.

So I decided to change my hair everyday.

Each day I would pull my hair up in a different way. Monday was a normal hair do. Tuesday I used one pony tail holder. Wednesday I used two. So on and so forth. I then realized that there were more people putting there hair up in one or two pony tails.

So I color coded it. Monday, yellow. Tuesday, red. Wensday, blue . . .ect.

Do I still do this pattern?

Of course not. I forgot the stupid day of the week. It's pretty obvious . . .

Kyon stopped as a car drove past us. After slamming that annoying elevator, he brought it onto himself to escape through the back entrance in a rush. Since the guy was pretty slow, I made chase and caught up with him easily. I still wondered why he was skipping cram classes but I guessed that it had something to do with note number two. At least I think so . . . ?

The Santa guy turned around to look at me with a scowl. Why does that expression remind me of a certain murderer? Guh . . . I told myself a million times that he was lying . . .

"Why are you still here?" he asked pretty rudely. I'm sorry but I'm not going to be talked to like that from this idiot.

"Where are you going anyway? Didn't you have class to go to?"

Kyon-Nick glared at me.

His weight shifted and his eyes went to his jean pockets. He's hiding something there, it's so obvious.

"Give it."

My glare towards him intensified and my hands held my hips in defiance. This loser isn't going to push me around. He looked away from my glare.

Defeated.

"Give what?"

I wanted to laugh at him but this game of cat and mouse had to end. Oh, yeah. I'm impatient, don't you remember?

"The. Note," I practically spelt out to him. He glanced at his pocket again. Yeah, give up the location of the evidence, some criminal you would turn out to be. If he was interrogated at the scene of a crime, he would look directly into the direction of incriminating evidence.

He's stupid.

"What note?"

Are you serious? Playing dumb? What, are you trying to extend the time of your death sentence? You're going to die anyway . . .

So I just went for it.

Now, before you get any ideas, there was no one around. The train tracks were empty of any passing trains and pedestrians didn't walk this road in the evening. And, I don't know this guy really so . . .it's not like that, all right? It's really important . . . to get that note I mean.

Sigh . . . I'll just shut up.

"What the –!"

I made a rush at his pants and dove my hand quickly into his pockets. He was too stunned to even fight back (I mean wouldn't anyone be?), so I easily got the note from his pocket.

All that was left was to read it . . .

"What the hell was that for?"

Shut up, moron. For once, the fate of the world is in my hands (literally) so I must ask fish lips to pipe down. I had no idea what would be on that paper but what I saw was this.

_#7_

_A part of you has perished and can only be restored if you go to this destination_ _inscribed here. There was a time when you would do things like this easily. _

_You should not have listened to that me, however._

_I'm glad you listened to your heart . . ._

_John Smith** . . . **_

* * *

**I know this chapter's short but there's reason to my madness :).**

**Things start from here . . . and sorry for no update in a while, the next chapter (longer then this) will be posted tomorrow. I like the mixture of short and long chapters (it adds depth to my writing).**

**See yeah!**


	8. The Point of Digression

α

It was raining that day . . .

A dream that seemed to enclose reality, the one thing that should never happen, happened.

Was it because it rained that day? Was it for that reason that . . . everything began? I don't know, I really don't . . .

All I know is that everything isn't going to be the same.

"_What's with the long face? Eat a water bug?"_

Very funny, never knew you had humor Kyon. Your always frowning . . .

I remained silent as I looked out the cold window. Rain season. I knew that it had been dry for a few days but I thought that the overcasting clouds would have avoided our fair city.

Why did it have to rain today?

I heard Kyon shift in his chair and a normal silence grew between us. I was planning on dragging him to the clubroom as soon as he got here but it's impossibly now.

Because it's raining.

I felt the demeaning eyes flicker towards my face and I shifted closer to the window as if to signal a plane away. Instead, he decided to crash the cock pit . . .

"_What's so interesting about outside?"_ he asked. What a stupid question.

"_It's raining."_

"_Yeah, and?"_

He really didn't know? I've been telling him over and over again about this specific date and yet he still forgot? When will he understand? When? No one understands me. That's how it will and always be.

I sighed deeply, the glass fogging up.

"_You are such an idiot. I told at least ten million times yesterday. Guess."_

Kyon pretended to think. How stupid.

"_Well . . . I do remember you barking at me about a certain date on the seventh_ . . . _nope. Nothing rings a bell."_

Damn you.

"_It's Tanabata you dope! Tanabata! You are not allowed to mock the Brigade Chief, got that? Listen, Orihime and Hikoboshi aren't meeting today because the bridge that separates them can't be made! Don't you get it? The spirit of Tanabata is ruined!"_

Kyon shook his head as if I just screwed up an entrance exam. What is it this time?

"_Look, it's not going to rain all day . . .you don't really have to worry . . ."_

. . . _Hmm_. When did Kyon start trying to make me feel better? A bit _suspicious _. . .

For some reason, my subordinate turned away suddenly to look at the streaming rain outside. Huh? Is there something on my face? I really couldn't see the look on his face but for some reason, I really didn't want to know what was on his face.

I looked out the window and wished that Orihime would stop being a big baby.

I sort of wondered what Tanabata wish I made sixteen years ago. I know I was only a year old but it's quite possible that I made a wish for food or something. That means the wish I made as a baby can't come true. This is terrible! Why is it raining? Why couldn't they make the bridge in the sky today?

They're separated. A whole year, they're separated. How depressing . . .

For some reason when I got to the clubroom it was empty. Even Yuki wasn't sitting in her usual spot. Kyon's such a lier. It's still raining outside and it doesn't look like it's going to stop. I walked over to the bamboo tree with all the wishes we had put up last year.

"Give me money."

I sneered at that wish Kyon had written. He would never get any spirit. You're suppose to make a wish about abnormal stuff stupid! The rest of the Brigade's wishes were all so normal and annoying. Especially Mikuru's.

It's already been four years since then, huh?

I wonder when I'm going to see him again? Maybe this rain is the reason why the wish I was going to make this year would never come true.

"I wish for the earth to rotate in the opposite direction."

Does it have to take sixteen years?

When will I see John Smith again?

Even if you can't grant my wish, just hear me out. Who knows? Maybe when it's raining our wishes transport faster. Whatever, I know that the tanzuku's aren't going to work this time. So I must pray to them. I'm normally not religious in the sense that I only pray to one type of religion but it's Tanabata so it doesn't matter.

"_Hikoboshi, I wish that you could at least help me find him. It wouldn't be too hard for you. You're a God after all."_

"_Are you sure about that?"_

Wha–? Huh? What is this slithering voice that seems to vibrate against the walls? How could anyone sneak up to _me_ the _Brigade Chief_? How dare anyone who is not a Brigade member enter! You better be a client with a good mystery!

. . . But no. He wasn't a client. In fact, he looked like the Student Council President minus the geeky look and dark hair. Well it didn't really matter, they both looked evil.

What I was surprised to see was Sasaki standing there.

Sasaki, Kyon's "close" friend. I was still trying to figure out what she meant to Kyon but he's practically a brick wall when it comes to stuff that happened in the past. Well, I'm the same since I would never tell Kyon about John Smith . . . for various reasons.

What was she doing here? Did she have class to go to? After all, she is in an elite high school so don't their hours extend a bit further? Or maybe it has something to do with Kyon . . .

I lowered my eyes to a glare.

"_What are you doing here?"_ I asked in a deep voice. The rain seemed to pound the window a bit harder and the wind seemed pick up outside. The strange guy came into the room as if he owned to place and sat in one of the metal chairs. Sasaki took only a few steps into the room and closed the door. What is this? Why is it taking Kyon so long to get here. Hurry up, you lazy ass!

"_What are you doing here?" _I asked a bit more forcefully. Sasaki looked around the room in curiosity.

"_So this is the infamous SOS Brigade clubroom? It looks rather homey Suzumiya-san, I'm surprised."_

What is with her? Did she wake up on the wrong side of the bed? I decided not to reply to that rather offending comment and placed my eyes on the stranger of the group.

"_Who is he?"_

"_He goes by Fujiwara."_

Well thanks but I was asking the sneering dude in the metal chair so just whatever . . .

Fujiwara's eyes traced over the rain outside the building, his dark eyes complimenting the mood. This is just getting a bit too creepy. Don't tell me they're spying on us. How stupidly cliche is that? Sasaki moved to sit in one of the chair's across from Fujiwara and I was the only one remained standing. And I will keep this commanding position.

"_Are you sure this is three months into the future?"_

"_Yes, why would I lie to you?"_

"_Your mask is delicately built, Fujiwara. I'm not a fool."_

"_Shut the hell up. I'm not like that smiling buffoon. I at least have the dignity to be myself. I'm honest even when I don't want to be."_

"_You keep on saying you do not want to be here, why don't you explain."_

"_Sorry, but that's classified information."_

Fujiwara then laughed after he said that like some clown had thrown a pie into someone's face. I had no idea what they were talking about so I just ignored that entirely. That's what I usually did.

"_Tell me what you're doing in MY Brigade room. Whatever business you have with the SOS Brigade just spit it out."_

"_We wish to tell you things. Things you may not want to be true. Although you are a spoiled selfish brat, you deserve to know before the end."_

The end? What end? Who said that anything was ending? Only I get to decide if this club would ever end, which is _never_! I'm not listening to this blond president masquerader. I'm _tired _of people opposing the SOS Brigade. Is there anything wrong with it?

"_The truth, Suzumiya Haruhi, is that "your" Brigade does not belong to you. You see, they give you the illusion that you are the "leader" when in reality, they are pulling the puppet strings. And the one pulling those strings is the person you trust the most . . ."_

". . ."

"_Don't you see? It must feel terrible to be pulled around by forces you can not perceive, that's why I can relate to you, brat."_

He placed his elbow onto the table and looked back at me with the eyes of a wolf. And I met him squarely. He doesn't scare me. And I know what he's doing. He's trying to make me distrust my members, that's what every enemy tries to do. I'm not falling for it.

I looked over to Sasaki in confusion and she gave me a smile (though it didn't look to kind) as she began to stand up again.

"_You are lucky, Suzumiya-san,"_ she said, brushing the table, _"You are not weighted by reality and enjoy life as life gives it. I, on the other hand, am questioning this word life. I could be jealous of you or I could not be. I normally do not give into the emotions that tie the human race down from the evolution it has yet achieved but . . . something is . . . different about Kyon-san. It could be that I am not strong enough to deny or I am not strong enough to admit but that year I had spent with him had . . . I guess you could say it had brightened my life up even a little. Whenever he talked about the abnormal, I would sometimes, maybe even a little, believe in him. Kind of strange really, since I denied everything he said as a misplaced imagination. And that's what it was. _

"_The truth was that he was distracting me from what I wanted to achieve. You might want to push him away before he starts meddling with your goal, Suzumiya-san. Which is the reason I am here, correct? I need to inform you of misplaced judgment. Do not trust in him more then you would trust yourself._

"_So separate yourself from him."_

". . ."

I didn't know what to say. I knew I couldn't trust her for a penny's worth but . . . what I was shocked to find out was that Kyon really did get the spirit. Maybe he didn't now but I did understand him for once. I knew for a fact that even though he told me to stop believing in this "weird" stuff, he always stood by me.

Sasaki doesn't know anything about me. Whenever someone tells me not to do something, I just have to do it.

"_Never."_

And before I could hear a reply, the world had turned upside down.

I guess the world really did rotate in the opposite direction. I guess my formula was wrong after all . . .


	9. The Point of Rescinding

"You may not understand but please, don't touch that rock."

Fujiwara, the "murderer" confronting me with a worried gaze. How rare for a murderer.

"Which one, the gourd looking one or the other random scattered rocks."

I pointed to the rock I stood beside.

"Particularly the gourd one."

I narrowed my eyes, the dark sky was close to encircling the clearing. It was almost time.

"Why are _you _so interested in it. After all, it's all your fault I'm doing whatever you think I'm doing. You have no right to stop me, not after you lied to me."

". . . Who said I was lying?"

Heh, who said I was lying? What a stupid question. He was lying, he was a terrible lier too. I saw this from one hundred meters away. It was obvious.

I took out a note from my pocket and flung it towards him, spitting at it as it landed

"She did."

Fujiwara stared at the note and my eyes followed him carefully as he picked it up. He gave me his infamous smirk as he dropped and crushed it.

"Are you even sure she wrote these notes? You could've been decieved."

"I don't see how Kyon being John Smith as being decieving. If I remember correctly, you told me that time travel was real and that John Smith wasn't allowing you to return home. Was that whole thing about the TPDD a lie?"

He began laughing as I finished my sentence. He twisted his hair and began walking towards me. I glared at him.

"Smart-assed as ever, Suzumiya-san. I'm impressed. Though I didn't lie about the capabilities of the TPDD. I'm not like them."

"Then why did you tell me that John Smith was dead!"

I moved closer to the rock and Fujiwara stopped moving towards me.

"Because he is dead."

". . . What?"

"John Smith isn't who he's originally suppose to be. Well you remember him, right? He's the one who 'helped' you create that waste of data. You see, Suzumiya-san. You are not from this reality."

Wha–what? What crap is he–?

"Why are you doing all of this? Is it for fun? Is it for curiosity? Or did something inside your head tell you to do it? Was it the articles? Notes? Adrenaline? Impatience? What?"

"Shut up."

"Or maybe . . . some little bug had erased any memories you had of the true reality you came from. Ha, so you're a slider? How ironic considering you wanted to meet one."

"Shut up!"

"And Kyon . . .? Who is he? John Smith? No he's dead. This is that ill-placed-name's reality. He belongs here. You, on the other hand, are a stranger. We are both strangers. So, for your best interests . . . don't touch that rock."

_SHUT UP, SHUT UP, SHUT UP!_

I placed my hand onto the rock, the cold surface gleaming among the moonlight. I held in my breath as I awaited what was to come. The crescent moon aligned with the gourd rock and just as the note had predicted, it began shining. I couldn't see the face of Fujiwara but instead of a cry of defeated, I heard a muffled laugh.

"No, you are simply too gullible, brat."

The white light pierced my conscious.

* * *

"_She just looks out that window?"_

"_Yeah, she's hoping for a lot, isn't she?"_

"_She's the weird loner, huh? Really,** you-**she__ **deserves it**."_

"_I know."_

These thoughts of mine mixed in with the whispers, clouding and distorting them.

"_Want to ask her out?"_

"_That weirdo? Dude, no way!"_

"_She's pretty hot though."_

"_Only someone stupid would ask someone like her out."_

"_I must be stupid then . . ."_

I try to ignore but the weight, the sound . . . it hurts. It never bothered me last year but . . .

"_Hey did you watch that episode yesterday?"_

"_Yeah, it was __**hilarious**__!"_

"_You should come over and watch with me sometimes!"_

**Shut up, shut up, shut up!**

"_You awake idiot?"_

"_Yeah, you didn't draw on my face did you?"_

"_**Why would I do such a childish thing?**__"_

Guh . . . I'll just lay my head on this desk. Everything is just too heavy.

_Why can't I just fade away?_

. . .

. . .

No?

Why would I . . .? Am I fading away? Why?

. . . Kyon?

_Where are you?_


End file.
